


A Winter's Meeting

by freyjaschariot



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Romance, Sibling Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-29 09:36:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18775624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freyjaschariot/pseuds/freyjaschariot
Summary: Set several years in the future: Arya and Gendry arrive at Winterfell for a Stark sibling reunion, and they've brought someone with them.Sansa's mouth fell open. "Arya... Is that a baby?"





	A Winter's Meeting

Sansa was finishing a bit of needlework in her solar when Brienne arrived with news that two riders fitting Arya and Gendry’s appearance had been spotted on the road from Winter Town. 

Setting her work aside, Sansa swept on her cloak and hurried down to the yard. Arya and Gendry were meant to have arrived at Winterfell two weeks ago, and with every day that went by without a sighting of them, the small knot of worry in Sansa’s chest had grown. She knew it was silly. If there was anyone who could take care of herself it was Arya. Her sister was the most dangerous person in the Seven Kingdoms, after all. And even if she hadn’t been, she had Gendry to watch her back. Still, Sansa worried. Arya might have been a deadly assassin, but even deadly assassins could fall victim to illness or accident.

Jon and Bran were already waiting in the courtyard. Sansa fell in beside them, breathless from her run. “Can you see them?” she asked. 

The sky hung like a heavy grey blanket over the castle and the air smelled sharply of snow. There would be white on the ground before nightfall.

“Not yet,” Jon said. No sooner had he spoken than Bran said, “Here they come.”

A minute later, Arya and her husband rode through the gate. Sansa scanned both of them for signs of injury and, to her relief, found none. Arya looked almost the same as when Sansa had last seen her, while Gendry had grown out his hair and beard.

Gendry dismounted and hurried to help Arya, who slid almost gingerly down her mare.

Sansa frowned. Since when did Arya need help getting off a horse? Was she injured after all? 

It wasn’t until Arya was a foot away that Sansa realized her sister had something cradled against her chest beneath her cloak.

Sansa's mouth fell open. “Arya... Is that a baby?”

Arya raised an eyebrow. “Well spotted.”

“But,” Sansa spluttered, “where did you find it?”

Arya gave Sansa an incredulous look as she shifted the baby in her arms. “I didn’t find him. I gave birth to him. A fortnight ago on the King’s Road. That’s why we’re late.”

Sansa stood there, stunned. Arya had had a baby? But... She hadn't even know her sister was pregnant.

Jon was the first to recover. Face splitting into a huge smile, he strode toward Gendry and pulled him into a back slapping hug. “You’re a father,” he crowed. “Congratulations.”

Arya harrumphed. “I don’t know why you’re congratulating him. I’m the one who did all the work.” Laughing, Jon let go of Gendry and pulled Arya into his arms instead. “Congratulations, little sister,” he said, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. Then he glanced back at Sansa and Bran. “Sansa?”

The sound of her name jolted Sansa from her frozen state. She stepped forward hesitantly. “Can I... Can I see him?”

“‘Course.” Arya tucked back her cloak to reveal the baby’s face. He was a round cheeked, black haired little thing, and when he turned his face toward Sansa she saw that his eyes were the same summer sky blue as his father’s.

He was real. Arya had had a baby. And on the King’s Road! Suddenly, Sansa smacked Arya on the arm. “Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?” she exclaimed. “I would have told you not to come.”

Arya shrugged. “He wasn’t supposed to be arrive for a few weeks yet. I wanted him to be born in the North.” She looked down at the baby. “Unfortunately, he had other plans.”

“But you can’t have had him by the side of the road,” Sansa said desperately. She could hardly bear to think of it. “Did you at least find an inn to stop at?”

“A barn actually,” Arya said, a small smile dancing around her lips. She nodded at Gendry. “This one about lost his head when I told him it was time, but he did at least manage to find a comfortable place for me to lie down.”

“A barn,” Sansa said aghast. “Seven hells, Arya!”

Arya shrugged again. “It’s alright. He was born to the smell of hay and horses. There are worse things.”

“I suppose,” Sansa said, although she truly wasn’t sure. She moved closer, marveling at the baby’s tiny fingers and long eyelashes. “What’s his name?”

“Matthos,” Gendry said, wrapping his arm around his wife and smiling happily down their child. “For Davos’s son.”

“A good name,” Jon said.

“Would you like to hold him?” Arya asked Sansa.

Sansa hesitated a moment, then nodded.

Arya shifted the baby into Sansa’s arms. Matthos yawned widely and nestled further into his blankets. Sansa gazed down at him in awe. If someone had told her back when they were children that someday she would hold the baby that was the result of her sister’s union with the last Baratheon heir (not the last, Sansa reminded herself, not anymore) she would have said they were crazy. And yet here they were. And Sansa couldn’t imagine anything more perfect than the warm weight of her nephew in her arms.

When Sansa looked up, her eyes were full of tears. “He’s beautiful.” Just then something cold alighted on her cheek. Sansa turned her eyes toward the sky to find a flurry of fat white snowflakes drifting toward them.

“A storm is coming,” Bran said. It was the first time he had spoken since Arya and Gendry's arrival. “By tomorrow the roads will be impassable."

That was alright, Sansa thought. That meant no visitors for a least a few days. With the usual business of running the North put on hold for a while, she would have time to sit by the fire with Arya and Gendry and her brothers and the baby. They would tell stories and drink and eat brown bread and pies with peas and onions. Smiling, Sansa turned and began walking back to castle. 

“Well, come on, then,” she called over her shoulder to the others. “Let’s go home.”

**Author's Note:**

> comments inspire me to keep writing!


End file.
